Michael Ch. 02

This is the third book in the Michelle series.

Series Order

Book One -- Michelle

Book Two -- Raven

Finch Mini-series

Book Three -- Michael

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"This is a lovely restaurant. Making use of your card, I take it?" Megan sipped her wine and smiled at Annie, who had a soppy grin on her face. That the two girls were slightly wasted was good news for Megan.

"Tell me about the tattoo!" said Amanda abruptly.

"Which one, dear. Boob or bum?"

"The raven."

"It was a symbol of loyalty to your mother. Quite a few of us had one. Jane, who you met earlier, has one."

"Oh." Amanda had expected resistance, a fight. That she got the answer so easily took the wind out of her.

"Loyalty? Like in a gang?" asked Annie, her eyes wide.

"In a way, yes. I was in thrall to my sister, she was like some god-like creature. Her husband I adored and at that time I would have done anything for them." Did do anything for them.

"Wow," breathed Annie. Megan was enjoying the girl's drunken attention.

"So, you were part of it? The criminal stuff?" Amanda pressed on.

"God, no! I was nothing more than a glorified girl Friday and I did end up running the flower shop while looking after you and Amy. We lived at the Rectory, remember? When it all blew up we were kind of insulated from it all, which allowed me to come to London with you girls and start a new life." Megan was rather pleased with her Girl Friday description. It covered a lot of ground. And sins.

"Oh," repeated Amanda. She was annoyed and wasn't sure why. "I guess that makes sense."

"So you were this Raven's sister?" asked Annie.

"Yes, dear. Still am." Megan patted the girl on the hand, causing Annie to go pink.

"So Amanda's name was Leason, or was that her father's name?"

"It was Leason, my sister never took her husband's name. No idea why, it was just the way it was."

"Kax!" Amanda straightened. "I remember, that was his surname. Mr Kax."

"Not quite. Michelle addressed him as Mr Kax, but that wasn't his real name. It was a shortened version."

"Oh. What was his name?"

That stumped Megan for a moment. "Honestly, I can't remember. His given name was African, Kairu or something. His surname was French. Kairu Xavier, Kax was just an--are you okay?" Megan asked in alarm.

"What, what did you say?" Shock was stamped on Amanda's face.

Annie looked puzzled, and then realisation hit her. "You don't think?"

"Think what?" snapped Megan.

"I think I'm going to be sick again!" Amanda dashed from the table, holding a napkin to her mouth.

17 months earlier

Amanda Ross, along with everyone else, was celebrating her exam results and securing a place in the university of her choice. John Summers raised his glass.

"To us!"

There was a raucous cheer. Amanda kissed him excitedly, as did Jane Scott. They looked at each other, the challenge unspoken. Jane was a slim blonde with natural confidence born of privilege, money and looks. Amanda was taller, more athletic and possessed a certainty and confidence that came with a sharp mind and natural gifts.

Both fancied John Summers, who shared Jane's privileged background and Amanda's athletic talent. Two confident 18-year-old girls convinced that the world, and John Summers, was theirs for the taking.

John Summers thought so too. His only dilemma was which one to take first. He briefly toyed with the idea of both, yet realised, even with his limited experience with women, that this was a combustible mix and likely to explode in his face.

He went for Jane, partly because she made it more obvious and partly because she was less intimidating than Amanda, not that he would ever admit it.

They slipped away downstairs, heading for the accessible restroom. It was gross enough to be titillating yet not gross enough to be off-putting.

Pushing the blonde girl against the sink, John pushed up her skirt while she fumbled for the fastener on his jeans. There was a crash as Jane dislodged the cover on the wall-mounted soap dispenser. Giggles, then a gasp as Jane gripped his cock, her panties lying on the wet, splattered floor. John was rock hard as he thrust forward, eager to strike home, "Squeeze my tits!" Jane breathed, her voice thick and urgent.

Upstairs, Amanda saw them disappear and ground her teeth in annoyance. She should ignore it, pretend she wasn't bothered, except the competitor in her wouldn't let it lie. Amanda made her way to the stairs. The accessible restroom was a well known 'make out spot'. Amanda had celebrated the weekend after her 18th birthday 'making out' with Toby MacMillan in that very restroom.

What she was going to do when she got there remained vague. Impulse was driving Amanda, not thought. She waited while a girl came out of the ladies and disappeared down the corridor, then glared balefully at the locked door. Putting an accessible restroom down a flight of stairs was one of the reasons it became a make-out spot. It was a standing joke, or at least a 'wedged against the sink and doing it' joke.

Amanda debated putting her ear to the door and then remonstrated with herself. The bumps and noises were audible enough.

"Is it occupied?"

Startled, Amanda turned to find a fair haired woman in her early forties regarding her. She was shorter than Amanda and casually dressed--dark jeans with an olive green jacket over a white shirt. A thin scar tugged at the left side corner of the woman's mouth, lending her a lopsided, almost amused expression.

"Yes. Sorry."

"Why?"

"Why what?" Amanda was confused. She wished she hadn't come down here; it diminished her.

"Why are you sorry? You're not occupying it."

"No, sorry." Amanda was flustered. The woman's cool manner was unsettling her.

The woman cocked her head and smiled. "Seems someone is struggling in there. Do you think we should help?"

"Tempting," grinned Amanda. "Door is locked."

"We could bang on the door, I do need to use it after all."

"You do?"

"Yes. I have a limp. So do we 'bang'," she emphasised the word, "or just walk in?"

"It's locked from the inside."

"True, but the thing about these restrooms is that you can open them with a universal key in case someone gets stuck."

"Really?" Thinking about it, that made sense. "We don't have a key--oh, you have a key."

The woman dangled a key from her finger. "£3.50, online. Very useful investment."

"We can't--"

The door was unlocked and pushed open. It seemed she could.

Amanda jumped back out of the line of sight. A brief glimpse of Jane bent over and leaning on the closed toilet with John fucking her from behind. Heart beating, she heard the woman say: "You should lock the door. Do you mind me having a pee while you fuck? I won't be long," then the door banged shut.

Stifling a giggle, Amanda rushed back to join the others and nervously waited. It turned into a long wait. Twenty minutes and still no sign. She imagined some sordid threesome and was half appalled, half jealous. Then John appeared, but no Jane or the mysterious woman. Had she missed them?

Amanda turned her attention to John, who had slumped down quietly at their table, sipping his lager. He kept looking at the stairs and suddenly sat up as the woman appeared. After a few minutes of indecision, he went to where she was sitting. They chatted briefly, and she nodded. Smiling, John returned to the group. Obviously, an assignation was being arranged, but where was Jane?

It was too much for Amanda. Seeing John now chatting with his mates, she grabbed her drink and followed in John's footsteps. The woman looked up and indicated the vacant chair.

"Please join me. I'm Michael." Then adding, as if by explanation: "My parents wanted a boy."

"Amanda." She sat down and looked expectantly at Michael.

"Do you want something, Amanda?"

"Well, duh! What happened? I kind of legged it."

"I had a pee."

"A pee?"

"Yes. Oh, and I fucked your friend. The male one. The girl ran screaming into the Ladies, leaving him high and, well, not so dry, so I felt it was the least I could do. Pity. The girl was cute."

"You did him? Wow!" Amanda was unsure whether to be shocked or impressed. She had obviously missed Jane unless she was still hiding in the Ladies.

"Yes, he took me from behind. He likes that if you want pointers."

Amanda pulled a face. "You're old enough to be his mum!" She immediately looked horrified. "Oh, I'm sorry, that was rude."

Dismissing the comment with a wave of her hand, Michael said: "I think that was the main attraction. Older woman showing young man the sexual ropes. As for me, I enjoy young flesh. Oddly when I was young I preferred older flesh. Unresolved daddy issues probably." She waggled her fingers in John's direction. "He's looking over here with suspicion. That should reassure him. So, all off to Uni huh?"

"Yeah, Stathford. It has a great athletic track and sports centre."

"You're into sports then? I'm impressed, you look athletic, strong." Michael seemed to be assessing her, and Amanda wondered if she was thinking of hitting on her, which would be gross. "I run a mobile self-defence program aimed at young women," continued Michael. "I also hold lessons in holding yourself and projecting a positive self-image that can prevent difficult situations from developing. I might try Stathford; access to a good sports centre is helpful."

"Sounds interesting. I've done a bit of martial arts training, you never know when it comes in handy."

"I'm not surprised. You have good balance, move well. You can tell a lot by the way someone moves. Okay, in your opinion, what are the most important attributes in a combat situation?" Michael shifted in her seat with a slight grimace.

"Strength, agility, flexibility--you okay?" The scar in the pub lighting gave Michael a manic look as she squirmed in her seat.

"Yes, I'm fine. I don't wear panties and have a semen leakage problem. One good reason for wearing dark jeans!"

"What?"

"Semen leakage problem. Cum, spunk--"

"I know what semen is!" Amanda hissed. "Keep your voice down!"

"You were saying?"

"What? Yes, okay, strength--look, I'm sorry, you've totally grossed me out!"

"On that basis then, throwing your opponent off guard would be the most important attribute, allowing you to strike a potentially incapacitating blow."

Annoyed, Amanda glared at Michael. "So you just made that up to mess with me!" It was an accusation, not a question.

"No, I didn't make it up to mess with you. The only thing that is messed up is my leaking pussy. I just used it for distraction. Are you going?"

"Most definitely, yes." Amanda was on her feet. "Frankly, you're disgusting."

"That's a bit harsh, given you were eavesdropping on them and clearly annoyed that he didn't chose you. Also, my comments have thrown you, so again what is the single biggest attribute?"

Amanda sat down. "Okay, I know your game now and I still say without strength, ability or training any fancy mind games aren't worth shit."

"Fair point, but strength is dissipated when not focused and you are so not focused right now. Additionally, your sexual interest in me is distracting you."

With a confident smile, Amanda mocked the woman back. "I have no interest in you, sexual or otherwise. I'm disappointed that you are trying the same shock tactics when the game is up. Please try harder, or did getting banged by a young lad in the toilets mush your brains a little?"

"Ohh, she strikes back! Now you are trying to establish dominance and using my sexual history and age to belittle me. Trash talk 101," laughed Michael.

Amanda joined in the laughter. "Yeah, but I enjoyed trashing you. It wasn't all for effect."

"Good. I shall try to be in Stathford for your opening term, assuming I get leave to use the premises, but I imagine money will open that door." Michael flourished some cards. "Take one and pass them to any friends who may be interested. If you wave it over your phone it downloads my details electronically, or something like that."

Looking at the card, it just had Michael's name, contact details, and the slogan Change Your Life.

"How much do your classes cost?"

"Nothing, it's funded by a charitable grant, but anyone who can pay and wants to pay can do so if they wish." Michael stood and shook Amanda's hand. "I enjoyed chatting to you, now, if you will excuse me, I have a young man to devour."

Amanda glanced over at John, who was eyeing Michael with intense desperation.

"They're the stronger sex apparently," said Michael wryly.

Smiling, Amanda watched as Michael walked past John and patted her thigh. He jumped up eagerly. If he had possessed a tail, it would have wagged.

Amanda decided she had gone off John Summers.

****

It was with a contented sigh that Megan felt the man's dick slide into her. She was on her knees on the hotel bed, her wrists bound behind her back, while the black man teased and tormented her.

"You want that, bitch? You want my big black cock in your slutty mommy pussy?"

"Yes! I want your cock ravaging my mommy pussy!" her pleading was part of the ritualistic nature of the act.

"You want me to fuck your wife's pussy, white fag boy?"

Richard and Megan were playing 'cucks and hot wives'. He was sitting in the chair next to the bed and watching this strong, well-built man abusing his willing wife, loving the contrast of taut dark skin against Megan's softer, pale flesh.

The man rammed into Megan, causing her to squeal and Richard to moan as he fondled himself. The slapping thuds and the wet sounds were music to Richard's ears as his wife burbled into the bed covers.

"Fuck!" The man grasped Megan's bound hands and half-lifted her as he fucked her, her breasts swinging wildly as she rode his cock, helpless and at his mercy.

"Please, Richard darling, I'm being raped!"

Her husband fell to his knees by her side, "He will beat me if I interfere! Please endure his ravishment for the sake of our family!" A little cliched, perhaps, but he was enjoying his role.

"I'm going to breed your wife," the man laughed, "grow my seed in her belly!"

Christ! Richard dribbled some cum. That fantasy always did for him. On their wedding day, Megan had the words "black baby breeder" scrawled across her belly. It had been her present to him.

"You can't let him inseminate me, Richard. I'll be ruined!" His face swam into her vision, and Megan's eyes hardened. "You fucking useless faggot, call yourself a man? You dickless piece of shit!" she spat at him.

"Please, darling," he tried to kiss her, but she pulled her face away, a contemptuous look turning to eye-rolling pleasure as a large hand clasped her breast, and her new lover pulled her onto him, half sitting her in his lap.

"Ooh fuck! Shoot your cum into my belly, make me have your babies! Yes! Yes!" Her screams echoed around the room as he shot his load into her. His hand released her breast and snaked out to pull Richard into his wife's crotch. He smiled as Richard made little lapping noises, and Megan spluttered as she slumped back against him in post-orgasmic bliss.

Afterwards, they dined together in a small Italian restaurant across the road from the hotel. Patrick had his arm draped around Megan and toasted an enjoyable afternoon of satisfying sex.

"Everyone feeling better now?" Patrick smiled. His muscles felt soft and relaxed after playing with Richard and Megan. He hoped they would continue.

"Much thanks, nothing better for marital tension than a make-out session with role-playing," replied Megan. "And a lovely meal afterwards!"

Richard squeezed his wife's hand, and she responded with a warm smile. The secret to their relationship was not only that they loved and trusted each other but that they liked each other. Neither could imagine sharing their lives with anyone else.

"Do you want to share?" Patrick tucked into his chicken penne dish.

"Our eldest has flown the nest, well for the time being anyway," replied Megan. Also, the point where they would have to sit down and reveal more truths to Amanda seemed closer than ever now that Amanda was further away.

"And our youngest is rehearsing for the role of 'pain in the arse teenager,' said Richard.

"Guaranteed to get the part," added Megan, resting her hand on Patrick's inner thigh, feeling his heat.

Wiping his mouth on his napkin, Patrick bent down and kissed her.

"I want to suck your cock before we go home," murmured Megan.

"Only if you kiss your fag husband after I cum in your mouth," grinned Patrick.

"Deal!" replied Richard hoarsely.

****

Amanda threw herself into university life, relishing living away from home. She was sharing a small flat with a girl she met online and who, so far, hadn't turned into a psycho. The sporting centre was first-rate, and her principal lecturer was a lovely mixed-race American woman with a soft melodious voice. Amanda instantly developed a slight crush on her.

She had forgotten about Michael, too many new and exciting experiences capturing her attention. A voice behind her brought the memory flooding back as she went through an early morning workout in one of the small gyms in the main sporting complex.

"Nice to see you again," Michael smiled at Amanda.

Amanda gave a weak smile in return. "Hi." The older woman looked good in black leggings and a cream crop top. Her body was toned with smooth muscles under her pale skin. She was strapping on gloves.

"Padded with a bit of weight," said Michael seeing Amanda was looking at them. "Bit of bag work in the morning to get the blood flowing."

"You warming up first?"

"Jogged over. Clears the head."

"Early riser, I'm impressed. Me too." Amanda walked over with Michael to the heavy bag.

"I wasn't when I was younger, opposite in fact. Last few years have conditioned me so now it's habit. Also, I don't party anymore, I lead a very ascetic life."

"Unless it's a young man in a restroom," said Amanda with a hint of sarcasm.

"Oh, pish, the odd sexual encounter hardly registers, I'm practically a nun."

Michael began lightly dancing around the bag, her stance was purposeful, but the punches were light, more limbering up than anything else.

"You're holding your class here then?" asked Amanda, automatically holding the bag as the woman increased the weight of her punches.

Michael waved Amanda back, more intent on dancing around than working the bag.

"Yes, an hour at 6 pm Tuesdays and Thursdays. I have 5 girls signed up. I didn't see your name." She motioned Amanda in and tapped a light flurry. She had fast hands.

"No, it's been a bit hectic, what with settling in, studies and track work."

"You mean you forgot."

Amanda shifted back as Michael did a heavier flurry. The young girl anchored herself but was waved away again. "Yeah, I forgot."

"I forgive you."

"I'll give it a go, I guess."

Michael stopped and curtsied. "Why, thank you. I would be honoured if you would grace my humble class with your presence."

"You really are a sarky cow aren't you?"

"It's been said. First class is this Thursday, it will be more of an introduction then anything else. Bring some friends along."

"I'll see." Amanda had no intention of bringing any of her newly made acquaintances to some class she knew nothing about.

As it turned out, Amanda forgot about the class until five past six. Amidst expletives, she hurried down to the gym, annoyed at herself, annoyed at Michael and her dumb class and especially annoyed she hadn't checked in which gym it was being held. She arrived fifteen minutes late, clutching a gym bag with some gear hastily thrown in.

There were five other girls. A short South Asian girl, looking self-conscious in shorts and t-shirt, a smiling blonde girl equally short and quite happy in shorts and t-shirt that clung to her boobs and bum, a tall, heavily built black girl and two slender brunettes who looked similar enough to be twins.